I'll keep your memory vague
by AGENT Kuma-chan
Summary: Sometimes, Elysia was the only one who could say what Gracia was thinking. --Elysia and Gracia on growing up and letting go. 'It wasn't as easy as washing footprings off the sand.'


**Title:** I'll keep your memory vague

**Fandom:** Full Metal Alchemist

**Theme:** 07. Kids often say things we can't

**Character:** Gracia, Elicia, Hughes

**Warning:** Elicia seems a bit older than she is….

**Summary**: _Elicia was the only one who could say what Gracia was thinking._

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Hughes' box hit the dirt with a thud, almost as loud as the one in her heart, and Gracia was sure that when that thud stopped echoing in her mind, her heart would stop too. It was too black and dark for Hughes taste, too solemn an occasion for his funeral. He would have wanted something louder and brighter, something that everyone could drink and laugh at.

(How could they? He was the on that made them laugh.)

The faces blurred past her as hands patted her in sympathy and pity. She was just another one of the widows, after all, just one more joining the thousands before her. Gracia was just a widow with nothing special to her and nothing in her name, so there was no need to treat her any differently.

(Wasn't Hughes special?)

Elicia cried and repeated her words.

Gracia's heart only took comfort from the fact that her daughter felt the same. He wouldn't like to be in a box like that.

He shouldn't be in a box like that.

-x-

Elicia would cry at night. When Gracia came to her room, the crying would stop, but when she left the crying would start all over again. It was almost like Elicia was waiting for someone and it wasn't Gracia.

He would never come back though and so she waited for that realization to sink in.

-x-

It was only after two weeks of their game that Elicia finally asked the question.

"When will Daddy be back?" Her eyes were huge and she waited with all the patience a kid could have. "When?"

"…" Her throat closed for a moment at the thought of having to explain it again. "Daddy…he's not coming back. He's gone somewhere else."

"When will he be back?" Elicia repeats, stubbornly not believing what she was told.

"Elicia…" She broke down into tears and hugged her close. "He's never coming back again. Never."

It's funny how one word could be so solemn and she felt like something ended that second.

-x-

Elicia slowly grew used to the empty house. There was a room that she would slip into when her Mommy wasn't around. It was Daddy's room, with pictures and his clothes. There was an album of them in the desk and she would sit down on the chair and flip through them sometimes.

Sometimes she would smile and it felt like he was pointing out what happened. It was so real she almost expected to see him there when she turned her head. Then she'd see the empty room and start to cry.

Elicia cried only in private because her Mommy hurt when she found Elicia crying. She also didn't ask about where Daddy was again because Mommy cried then and that hurt Elicia.

Instead she would flip through this album and keep his face in her mind. When he did return, she would recognize him and tell him she remembered.

-x-

Cooking wasn't as fun anymore. There was no one to bake for and no one to talk to while she did it. Elicia wasn't as interested as she used to be in pies and Gracia could slowly feel herself falling apart.

She cleaned more often now, the busy motion keeping her mind clear. The soap smelled clean and fresh and that didn't remind her of him.

(Except when it did and she remembered him trying to help cleaning and getting wet instead. The tears started to fall, mixing into the soapy water and it wasn't working anymore.)

-x-

Elicia slowly noticed that the world around her was changing. The streets were filled with more and more blue suits and that colour is no longer only the skies and the oceans. Her daddy used to wear that, she faintly remembers. Her daddy used to wear something like those clothes, so maybe her Daddy was with them.

Maybe that's why he wasn't back. He was busy with them and he would be back after, when he was done with toys and presents. He hadn't abandoned them after all, he was just waiting for his work to finish.

She wanted to believe that because sometimes it seemed like Mommy was right. That her Daddy would never come back—maybe he was actually staying where Mommy said he was.

(Didn't he love her? Didn't he promise to be back?)

-x-

Elicia grew up to a changing world. Gracia noticed that and fretted over it, as the soldiers appeared in nearly every corner. There were alarms in the air every now and then, shouts and yells as guns roared in the air and sharply bit anyone nearby. Whenever it was calm, Gracia would quickly go out and buy what was needed, worried it might not be there tomorrow.

(worried that there wasn't going to be a tomorrow.)

She was still connected to the military by Hughes's friends (it was getting easier and easier to think his name, easier to say it without choking, but only if she didn't connect it with her husband.) Unlike most of the civilians, she knew that war could happen any moment, whether internal or with other countries.

Gracia ran through the streets, wondering if one day there would be bombs and planes flying overhead instead of birds.

When she got home, she saw her daughter staring out the window.

Elicia didn't say anything about the soldiers but there was a bright light in her eyes when she saw them and it made her worried. Maybe her daughter thought her daddy would be back.

Even though she knew better, knew it was impossible, Gracia couldn't say she didn't think the same at times.

-x-

Ghosts were not for the dead, Gracia realized. They were for the living. They were the memories and feelings of those left behind, those wishing that their loved one would come back.

The house would creak at night, loud and piercing through the silent air, and she would sit up in bed, wondering if he was back. Maybe he was taking off his shoes, a tired smile on his face, and would tell her this was all just a bad dream.

At times, she could hear his voice, loud and clear as though he was behind her, and smell his cologne lingering in the air, like he just left the room.

His ghost seemed to exist because she can still see his presence in every room, waiting for her to find him. A game of hide-and-seek, but she could never win this game.

And maybe, it was time to end it.

-x-

Elicia suddenly grew up and Gracia was surprised when her daughter uttered those words, "He's never coming back, is he?"

Her little girl had mentioned her father less and less, as though she was getting over it. How someone got over death, Gracia didn't know because it was impossible. It wasn't as easy as washing footprints off the sand—more permanent was this stain.

Still, Elicia seemed to be getting over it anyways, spending time with her friends and playing outside more and more. So it was a surprise when she spoke about him.

"Yes." Gracia heard her voice crack a little—he still had such a firm hold over her—but she didn't cry this time. Perhaps the pain ebbed down to a numb throb.

"…" Elicia remained silent, staring at her giant teddy bear. "Will you go away too?"

"No!" It was hard to swallow and her chest hurt a little as she fell down to her daughter and hugged her. "Never."

"I won't leave you, Mommy!" Elicia paused before continuing. "Daddy didn't want to leave us, right?"

"Yes, he loved us very much."

They didn't speak too much after that, more soothing noises and silent sobbing than anything.

Maybe this is how you heal_, _Gracia thought, by breaking and falling until there is nothing left to loose and climbing up from there.

She hugged her daughter tighter and thought they were making a good start.

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**A/N**: What an ending—I had the hardest time thinking of what Elicia should say and then gave up.


End file.
